


Thin Line

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Humor, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, My Hero Academia AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-23 15:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30057690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ranked Number 1 and 2 on the Pro-hero chart, Dream and George co-exist heavily scrutinised by the media. When both of their careers are compromised on live television, their working partnership becomes imperative to stopping the rise of a new villain organisation.All the while the pair struggle with their complicated feelings for one another, an intense attraction, and conflicting opinions on what hero society should really be.ORMHA AU with Dream SMP characters.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up: I’m shipping the online personas, not the real people. If any cc’s change their minds about shipping or fic, I will take this down, delete the file from my laptop, and repent for my sins.
> 
> On anon because I have other fics I’m neglecting to update and I don’t want the pressure.
> 
> Now that that’s done with…
> 
> If you haven’t heard of it (which I doubt, but I’ll elaborate anyway) My Hero Academia is a manga/anime that takes place in a world where most of the population is born with a ‘quirk’, which is basically a superpower. Some of them are super OP, others pretty basic. The premise is simple, but when you start watching (or reading the manga, which is a lot further ahead) it’s actually quite a complex story.
> 
> But you don’t need to watch it to understand this fic, since I’m not using any of the MHA characters. I’m just taking inspiration from the concept. :D

* * *

“Look here, you two!”

“Oh, perfect!”

“Yes, just like that!”

“Dream, George, can you comment on the latest rescue operation you collaborated on?”

“Please,” George’s smile is practiced, perfectly sweet and accommodating. He raises his hand, and the horde of reporters and photographers immediately freeze, as if entranced. Still, the flashes don’t stop. Cataloguing each and every minor change in his expression. “Direct all of your questions towards my agency. They’ll be glad to give you answers, if you book an allocated interview slot.”

“Oh come on, Georgie, toss them a bone!” An arm settles companionably over his shoulder, and George feels his eyebrow begin to twitch at its presence. It’s warm, nicely muscled. Clothed in that ridiculous _green_ Dream has favoured since his first initial costume design. “They’re here just to see _us,_ after all.”

“Well,” George gets through his teeth, still bared in his best ‘customer service’ smile. “I’m sure the other heroes in attendance would beg to differ.” He means this to be a reminder, an excuse to get off of the lush red carpet laid out for the arriving heroes. He knows others are waiting to walk it, some more eager than others to get the whole media circus over and done with.

The assembled mass all throw back their heads and laugh, as if he’s made some hilarious joke. George hopes he hasn’t come across as being sarcastic. He was trying to be _considerate._ This was so typical of Dream, making him look like an arse while he shines next to him, the ever radiant _Number 1._

“He’s so modest, isn’t he?” Dream looks down at him with a teasing grin, and a couple of the reporters titter in admiration, commenting on how _cute_ George is, as he blushes up at the devastatingly handsome Dream, such a fantastic friend and even better hero-

They don’t see what the red on his cheeks _really_ indicates. He’s irritated, not flustered. Dream was such an insufferable, _cocky-_

“But I guess he makes a good point, so let’s make this quick. One question, and then I’m afraid we have a gala to attend. I’m happy to answer more later, though. I might even host a Q&A, so be sure to keep an eye out on my socials!”

Obnoxious. Utterly arrogant. Inflated ego, stupid mask, _arsehole-_

One journalist is fortunate enough to raise her hand the fastest. Dream points to her, nodding at her to go ahead with a grin nobody can truly see from behind his mask, but is sensed universally regardless. Nobody expresses themselves through voice intonation and body language better than Dream. He’s mastered it, as if it’s an art. “My question is to the both of you.” She says, her microphone jutted over the golden-linked fence separating them. There’s a sort of greed on her face, the expression of a true journalist out for an exclusive scoop. “Dream, and Georgenotfound-”

George knows it’s customary for them to address him by his hero name, but it still makes him inwardly cringe. Every day he regretted letting Dream help him choose his hero name when he was younger. That stupid decision had haunted him every day since his first year in high school. Once it had been officially submitted to the commission, there had been no going back.

“-could you please confirm your relationship statuses for our ravenous readers?”

_Ugh. Of course Dream had to choose a reporter from a gossip rag._

George’s smile becomes a little strained. His agency had made it clear numerous times in the past that he didn’t appreciate such personal questions, but the reporters still insisted on asking him. He couldn’t be outwardly rude, but he still had to be firm in his reply. “Sorry, but I don’t like to remark publicly on my private life. I hope you can respect this decision, although I’m beyond flattered to know so many people are interested.”

She nods, clearly having expected the polite but corporate denial. George isn’t who she really wants the answer from. It’s Dream, who had less qualms about discussing such matters. “Of course, Georgenotfound-“ _ugh_ “Dream, are you comfortable answering?”

“Sure.” George can feel Dream shrug through the extension of his arm. He can smell the waft of his cologne, probably the ‘signature scent’ he’d worked with a company to manufacture. If asked, George would say he found it unpleasant, but the truth was it was rather…lovely. Musky, but not overpoweringly so. It had notes of pine and some other plant. It suited him.

George wondered if his own cologne was the same. He’d picked it from the shelf of a fragrance store, selecting the first one he found nice. He’d never gotten complaints, so it must have been passable. _Hurry up, Dream,_ he thinks, pointedly glancing down at the expensive designer watch he was being ‘sponsored’ to wear, _at this rate the entire evening will be running behind because of you._

“Well,” he begins, before pausing for effect. The media mass all hold their breaths, pens poised over clipboards, recording devices or video-cameras blinking. Cameras are blinding, but George’s ever-present goggles help. “I’m actually single right now.”

 _Oh what a surprise._ George thinks, trying _very_ hard not to roll his eyes. Dream had been single for _years,_ only ever indulging in casual flings. The media ate it up, branding him a ‘playboy’, when George was just sure Dream was too childish to stick around for a mature relationship. Unlike George, who-

~~Had commitment issues. Was afraid of vulnerability. Never opened up to people in a romantic capacity, let alone a sexual one.~~

Who was too _busy_ for such trifles.

“But,” he adds, as the reporter opens her mouth to speak “I consider my _heart_ taken.”

George gives a surprised blink before he can help himself, cursing himself for the lapse in composure. It was certainly a new one for Dream, who usually replied with a coy ‘I’m not looking to settle down yet’, cue the endeared coos from a populace brainwashed (sorry Wilbur) into believing Dream was just a roguish young man and not a flirty menace. George just _knew_ his reaction was going to be turned into a meme or GIF…

“ _Do_ tell.” The reporter is practically salivating, but Dream shakes his head with a playful chuckle.

“Sorry guys, but I promised one question only! Have a great night!” With his cheerful farewell spoken, Dream steers George away from the group, arm still wrapped around his shoulder. George wants to pull away, suddenly feeling more irked with Dream than ever. He pitied whatever poor soul had captured his attention…

He _did._

There’s two bodyguards manning the entrance to the venue, earpieces in, and stoic frowns firmly in place. One has a mutant quirk, and the other a mild strength enhancer, judging by the green scales and bulging veins. They nod their heads as Dream and George enter, and George doesn’t wait another second before activating his quirk and twisting in Dream’s grasp, more than willing to pull away now that they’re out of sight of the public. The press were barred from this event, which (aside from some catering and hospitality staff who risked being sued if they didn’t keep their mouths shut) mostly had heroes, sidekicks and officials in attendance. There would be some entertainers later, but that would be after the ‘official’ business was dealt with.

George and Dream had bickered so much over the years, that the majority of their peers were accustomed to the sight of them jostling, especially when Dream got touchy. They never truly hurt one another, and over the years Dream had gotten _gentler,_ but-

Dream lets George go, but his green eyes glimmer through his mask, eyes tracking where he predicts George will move. He’s better at it than anyone else. They’d trained together for years, after all, often pitted against one another in competition. They knew one another’s habits well.

George doesn’t turn off his invisibility until he’s a decent distance away, startling Bad, who was nibbling on a hors d'oeuvre. He smiles at George kindly in greeting. “Hey, George. How are you?” It had been a while since they’d last spoken in person, the pair both busy with work. There had been a bit of a crime rise recently, for some reason they were still trying to determine.

Bad owned and operated his own agency, and did a decent amount of liaison work with troubled youth who were attracted to villainy. A lot of impressible first-offenders meant _a lot_ of BadBoyHalo, who, despite his demonic appearance, didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

Unless you _really_ pissed him off. In which case, he could be a truly intimidating force.

“Could be better.” George replied, sending a significant look to Dream, who was currently being rebuked by Sapnap. The other hero was punching him on the arm, loudly complaining about being ‘kept waiting’ whilst ‘him and Gogy had their couple photoshoot’ on the red carpet.

Mortifying.

If George didn’t have an iron sense of self-restraint, he’d be plucking a flute of champagne from a server right about now and downing it. But, he’d learned his lesson in the past. Drinking at these events was never a good idea, especially if you had a low tolerance for alcohol. You were always one second short of a drunken outburst, or vomiting all over yourself and passing out in a gutter.

Yeah, it had taken a _lot_ of PR to fix up that particular blemish of George’s. He could only be grateful he hadn’t been the only one compromised in such a scandal. They’d all borne the brunt of society’s concern and disappointment together, holding back their frustration at being universally judged by people who knew nothing about them outside of their hero personas.

Being in the public eye could be exhausting, hence the high burn out rate for those who managed to make it as professional heroes. One only survived in this industry if they had _at least_ one of three things.

One: The drive and determination to succeed against any odds, and overcome challenges.

Two: A true desire to help others (or one to pretend to, for fame) and protect them.

Three: A quirk suitable for the field.

The last one was a bummer for those born with weaker quirks, but it was the harsh truth. Unless you had something well-suited to hero work (underground, rescue, or otherwise) you weren’t going to make it. It was near impossible to get sponsors and internships if you weren’t accepted into a hero academy, and their entrance exams were notoriously ruthless (and truthfully a little biased). There was no denying that the process was unfair, and that the entire structure of hero society was flawed, but-

Some of them were here to try and change that (some of them weren’t, or were trying to figure things out, or _liked_ the imbalance) Fix the system from the inside. Whether or not they succeeded, was for time to tell. Maybe before they could, vigilantes would rise up.

“You two are such muffin-heads.” Bad sighs, but seems unsurprised. He sends a happy wave to Sapnap, who looks in their direction, sensing the stares. He pokes his tongue out at George, who returns the gesture readily. He doesn’t have to pretend as much here, not with people he’s known for years. “You used to be such close friends, what happened?”

George certainly doesn’t feel anything close to resembling ‘friends’ when Dream puts his hand to the mouth etched onto his absurdly simplistic mask, sending him a kiss from across the room. He can practically _hear_ the obnoxious ‘MWAH’ sound he’s making.

As if triggering a chain reaction, Sapnap does the same to Karl, who’s obviously _time-jumped_ past the red carpet display, and just entered. He gives a loud laugh, ‘catching’ the heart, before sending it on to Quackity, who was gesticulating wildly to the bartender, who was wearing a long-suffering expression.

The atmosphere sobers up when an official for the commission strides purposefully up to the small stage erected, a slew of well-dressed followers at her heels. Like the rest of them she’s quirkless, not that George underestimates such a trait anymore. It was funny, how society pitied quirkless people, when the commission that controlled the heroes they worshipped only had those people in their ranks. It didn’t make them sympathetic, though. George had yet to meet a Hero Commission worker he didn’t think was secretly a reptilian alien in disguise.

No offense to reptile quirks, of course.

The microphone is tapped. Bad rubs away the crumbs on his mouth. Quackity, Karl and Sapnap exchange looks, their enthusiasm dampening. George makes his best effort to appear courteously attentive.

“Welcome everyone, and thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend tonight’s gala. I’m sure you’re all looking forward to celebrating your hard work, but before we get to the festivities, I have a few issues of note to discuss with you. Please, take your assigned seats.”

 _Yeah,_ George thinks, as the hero’s begin to file towards their designated seats, _a bloody **‘gala’.** This is just an excuse to get the top heroes all in the same room without causing any panic. _

Naturally, George is seated at Dream’s table. There’s a nameplate there printed with his hero name, and he feels a sense of exhaustion as he sits down. He stiffens when Dream takes his own seat beside him, the man quiet for once. Still, he can’t resist laying a hand on George’s upper thigh, squeezing briefly before pulling away. 

George allows it. He always does, in these scenarios. He assumes Dream feels a similar sense of tiredness and unease when the commission is so assembled. Established reputation or otherwise, these people had the potential to ruin their careers if they so chose to do so.

Best behaviour, at least for now. When the briefing was over and the commission lackeys had all marched out, they could let their hair down and relax. There was no use wasting good food and drink, and the public would be suspicious if they left the venue so soon.

In moments like these, Dream at his side, George can understand what Bad means.

Dream and him…they weren’t the best of friends like the media printed, but they weren’t complete enemies like George liked to think, either.

He had complicated feelings about the other man, but instead of acknowledging them and going through the difficulty of processing them…

Dislike was strong. He used it to fuel him.

Dream was his enemy. His rival.

He didn’t _care_ that his heart had been taken by someone else.

Dream’s hand is large when it settles over his underneath the stark white tablecloth, palm calloused. It’s comfortably warm. Reassuring, even if it sends a jolt down George’s spine. His first response was to turn invisible, but he knows doing so will attract unwanted attention.

 _“I hate you.”_ He mouths, cheeks flooding with heat. Dream’s thumb shifts, rubbing circles over his pulse. He can obviously feel it thumping wildly, because George can see the slant of a smirk at the edge of his mask.

George knows what he looks like. Knows how freckles sprinkle across the bridge of his nose, how strong his jawline is. How when he grins, it’s a crooked and confident thing. Handsome. As handsome as the media speculates, although not quite as cartoonishly perfect as fan-art and comic books presume…

He’s Dream.

_“Yeah, right.”_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flip a coin, that’s the likelihood of this fic being continued!
> 
> In all seriousness though, I have some ideas I really like for this fic. My brain’s been doing a bit of world-building, and distracting me from my IRL responsibilities. 
> 
> Tell me what you think, it might just influence my decision 😉 
> 
> Also since I technically revealed three ‘quirks’ in this chapter, here they are officially listed:
> 
>  **George (Georgenotfound)**  
>  Quirk: Invisibility  
> He can turn himself invisible. 
> 
> **Karl Jacobs (Karl)**  
>  Quirk: Time-travel  
> He can jump through time, but going too far forward or backwards runs the risk of him getting stuck. Kind of like Five from The Umbrella Academy. 
> 
> **Wilbur Soot (?)**  
>  Quirk: Brainwashing.


	2. Ionone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But like all things regarding Dream in George’s life, he didn’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter. The control was stolen from him, and Dream had always been the type to dangle things over people’s heads. He _couldn’t_ let George go about his day in peace. He _had_ to remind him of his insufferable existence, even if the only heckling he could manage was sending a bouquet of violets. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Dream sends George flowers. He also has a short discussion with Sapnap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter because I’m pretty hyped about this story atm. I had fun writing this chapter, so I hope you have fun reading :D also thanks to everyone who commented or left kudos last chapter, it really made me happy to see people enjoying this so far :)

* * *

“Why the hell is my desk covered in flowers?” George directs the question towards his secretary, stalling in the entrance to his office. His agency had delegated him his own space the moment he’d broached the top ten, and employed him a secretary when he’d edged into the top five. It was a reasonably sized section of the overall building, decorated and furnished to his liking. Sure, it probably wasn’t as extravagant as Dream’s skyscraper office, but George fondly regarded his middle-ground space.

“A delivery came for you, sir. It was cleared through security.”

The reassurance did nothing to sooth George. He would have preferred poison. An explosion, even. As a pro hero, he’d be more than prepared to deal with any would-be assassination attempts. He’d act without even thinking, body and mind trained for such scenarios.

And then he’d have a cup of coffee afterwards. Perhaps a light breakfast fetched from one of the local cafes.

Alas, George knew he wasn’t that fortunate, and it spoke volumes of his distaste for Dream, that he considered an early-morning assassination attempt preferable over the ensuing headache he’d get from dealing with the man’s floral antics.

He’d rather _not_ think about his arch-enemy and rival after a double patrol-shift the night (or rather early morning) previous. He was sleep-deprived, hungry, and now beginning to develop a throbbing headache.

But like all things regarding Dream in George’s life, he didn’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter. The control was stolen from him, and Dream had always been the type to dangle things over people’s heads. He _couldn’t_ let George go about his day in peace. He _had_ to remind him of his insufferable existence, even if the only heckling he could manage was sending a bouquet of violets.

The vibrant purple flowers (the colour easily distinguished through the goggles slightly askew on his face) sit neatly arranged in what appears to be an expensive crystal vase, a small cardboard card printed with hearts sitting prime in the middle of George’s desk. Unmissable.

George wants to scold his secretary, but he knows it isn’t her fault. Although she’d likely inferred his dislike for Dream (probably from hearing him curse the man out loudly in his office more than once) she wasn’t knowledgeable about his…antics. Her job was to take calls and perform administrative tasks, not guard his office from pesky flowers. He wasn’t close with the woman (he wasn’t close with many of his colleagues) so she’d only be bewildered if he told her to turn away certain deliveries. It would confuse her.

And George liked to keep his office running as efficiently as possible. One couldn’t be the Number 2 ranked hero without having competent clerical staff. If he wanted to maintain his position, he couldn’t afford the distraction of interviewing new candidates.

Perhaps sensing his tenseness, the woman stood from her chair. “Would you like me to do a coffee run, sir?”

George nods tersely. “Yes, thank you. Please fetch me something for my headache, as well.”

The woman excuses herself a moment later, and George is once again thankful that the agency understands his preference towards quiet staff. He isn’t like Dream, who seems to hire the most obnoxious of people. Always so loud, and overly enthusiastic.

He shuts his office door behind him, slumping over to his desk with a resigned air. He may as well get this over with, and try and move on with his day.

He ignores how lovely the violets look in the mid-morning sun, how beads of water glisten on their petals. Evidently they’d been delivered straight from the florist, probably from their prime-stock. Dream would have made a big fuss about his identity, pressuring them into prioritising his (likely) late order. He’d probably leave a nice enough review to compensate for it, maybe even a hefty tip, but George still despised his showy methods.

The smell of the flowers is fleeting, as it always is, for violets. The first time Dream had sent them to him (Valentine’s Day in high school, a slightly wilted and less extravagant arrangement) he’d been bemused at how suddenly the scent had faded, pressing his nose into the silky petals to try and find it again. He’d learned later that the short-lived smell was due to a chemical they contained, ionone, which temporarily desensitised the nose.

But much like the chemical compound responsible for the desensitization, all of George’s tolerance for Dream has been fleeting for some time now. His admiration for the flowers always turned to insult quickly, and this time was no different, as he sees the sappily romantic card.

**_To my Shrinking Violet,_ **

It’s not Dream’s handwriting. He’d probably requested the transcription. It makes George’s ears burn to know the florist who wrote this is privy to the stupid nickname Dream has given him, even if she likely didn’t know who she was writing to.

**_I know it’s been a week since we last saw one another, but I want you to know I’m missing your pretty face. Did you see those press photos of us? We look good together._ **

**_Until next time,_ **

**_Your Dream xxx_ **

“ _Your_ Dream.” George scoffs, glaring down at the three little _‘x’s’_ like they could leap off of the card and bite him. _“Ridiculous.”_ He scrunches up the card, turning to lob it into the wastepaper basket. His arm furls, but at the last moment he pulls it down, instead tossing the crumpled thing into the top of his desk draw. He tells himself he can use it to prove Dream is harassing him later, if he likes.

~~He won’t.~~

He collapses down on his desk chair and boots up his computer, blandly staring at the agency’s logo on his desktop screen. His office is homey, but less personalised in the way of photographs. He has a few of graduation, one of his ranking ceremony framed, a couple from his school years. He’d had one of him and Wilbur once, the two friends smiling as they held up their perfectly graded exam papers.

That was before his boss had insisted he take it down.

They didn’t talk about what happened to Wilbur.

They still didn’t _know_ what happened to Wilbur.

But he was alive, and for now that was all George could be glad for.

There’s a few work emails in his inbox, and a small mountain of paperwork to complete that was growing steadily higher, both of which George ignores. He lets the monitor dim and rests his head on the timber of his desk, the crystal vase shimmering in his peripherals.

He’d take a nap, for now. There was no point trying to be productive until he’d at least had a cup of coffee.

****

* * *

Dream’s quirk was an Emitter-type, but that didn’t stop him from maintaining his peak of physical fitness. He was lean, but toned. His muscles weren’t bulging, but they were very much present.

In a world where strength-enhanced quirks were quite common, he had to train hard to compensate for what he lacked in that field. His quirk was powerful enough to usually cripple his enemies without a fight turning physical, but in the rare case his opponent had a cancelling quirk or some kind of immunity, he needed to be prepared to fight without it.

Fortunately, such instances were rare, but he’d never forget the fury and humiliation he’d felt when Technoblade had gotten the best of him and pinned him down, tusks pressing into his throat. It had been the worst fight of his life, and his pride had never quite recovered.

Techno wasn’t around anymore, hadn’t been since high school ended. Dream had his suspicions, but he couldn’t confirm what the hybrid was up to nowadays. As long as he wasn’t showing him up anymore, he was happy.

Dream’s quirk, aptly titled **‘Dream’** (yeah, maybe it was a little lame to have the same quirk-title as your hero name, but Dream thought the simplicity was kind of-bad ass) involved a lot of mind manipulation. Casting illusions, hypnotism, inflicting general mental suffering…

Yeah, that was him.

It wasn’t an easy quirk to master, but once he had, he was practically unstoppable. He’d had to do a lot of PR to make his quirk seem less ‘villainous’ to the public, but his charm and (supposed) good-looks had eventually paid off. Everyone loved him. Mostly.

Everyone except the one person he truly wanted to return his affections.

He knew it was his own fault. One moment of competitiveness had destroyed his entire relationship with George when they were teenagers, and he was still suffering, seven years later.

He’d started it, and now even when he wanted it to stop, he was still stuck in old patterns. George and he had both been prodigies, Dream reaching the Billboard Hero Chart straight out of high school, George a year later. Now twenty two and twenty three respectively, their positions in the hero history books were well and truly cemented. They didn’t need to prove themselves anymore, and yet-

“The Sports Festival is on in a few days.” Sapnap interrupts his agonising, spinning on his desk chair. He’d been banished to desk duty after overdoing it in his latest mission, his own quirk giving him a nasty sunburn after he over-exerted himself. Like most quirk users, there was a capability to harm yourself if you went past your natural biological limits.

George though, Dream had witnessed him stay invisible for over forty eight hours once, and the (at the time boy) had never even broken a sweat. His quirk seemed to be limitless in that regard. Impressive.

“So?”

“Dude, what do you mean _so?_ The Sports Festival is the agency’s best chance at poaching the most promising hero course students! I’ve heard they’ve got some awesome candidates this year.”

The Sports Festival _was_ important. It set up a lot of important connections for aspiring hero students, _if_ they impressed the right people. With the hero field so competitive even in high school, it was hard to stand out from the rest of the pack. But if you performed well and got scouted, forming a good rapport with agencies could lead to work study placements and even internships.

Both Dream and Sapnap had been hired by the very same agency they’d done their work studies and internships with, having been sponsored by them after performing well at their own sports festivals.

But...

“That has nothing to do with me.” Dream shrugged, taking a slurp of water. He was beginning to regret his earlier promise to keep Sapnap company whilst he languished in paperwork. “The agency is responsible for sponsorships.”

“Yeah, but we can choose to have one study under us, since we’re fully fledged heroes now. Don’t you think it’d be fun having one of those cocky little shits fetch us coffee?”

“I think you’d be mentoring them for the wrong reason if that’s your intention, Sapnap.” His words are harsh, but his voice is amused. Sapnap for all his bark, was no bite ninety percent of the time. His head could be as hot as his flames, but deep down he was a softy. “We have PA’s, remember?”

“But torturing the baby heroes would be so fun.” Sapnap makes a show of pouting, although his lip is twitching as he holds back a grin. “Maybe we could put them off hero work forever. Keep our rankings safe.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m gonna be on top of the rankings forever.” Dream crosses his arms behind his head, giving his own chair a spin. The world below the skyscraper looks miniscule, but bustling. He feels like some kind of god observing colourful ants scurry about. He can’t deny that such power doesn’t give him a sort of…rush.

“Not unless Georgie knocks you off. He’s been working pretty hard lately. I don’t think he’s going to stop until he topples you from the number one spot.” Sapnap gets a mischievous look on his face here, and waggles his eyebrows. “Although I know you’d rather topple _him_ into _bed_ with you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Not a denial, bro.”

Dream turned back around, a smirk spreading across his face unabashedly. He felt no need for the mask, not when he knew Sapnap and he wouldn’t be barged in on. A new secretary had made the mistake _once,_ and he’d never seen his second day. It wasn’t that Dream disliked his co-workers and subordinates, but rather…

He only trusted those closest to him with his face. It was a private part of himself he wouldn’t share with just anybody. Dream had worked with some pro-heroes for _years_ and he’d never once removed the thing around them, even when out for casual after-work dinners or drinks. Sure, it was still possible to get a hold of photos and video footage of him before he’d incorporated it into his hero costume, but even the most persistent of paparazzi had failed to snap a shot of him with it absent.

“Why would I deny it?” He says, as Sapnap immediately rolls his eyes at the cocky tone, wishing he hadn’t broached the topic at all. As much as he loved his friends, their love-hate relationship was going to give him grey _hairs._ “I’ve made my interest in George known for some time now. You’d have to be _blind_ not to notice it.”

“Or colour-blind.” Sapnap quips, dryly. “Dude, I don’t think your flirting is all that if he looks so confused when you mention someone taking your heart. He looked like someone pissed in his cereal when you made that announcement.”

Dream had had _his arm around him,_ when he’d said it. Sapnap was right about one thing at least, George was _clueless._ That, or he was operating on pure spite and enjoying watching Dream make a fool of himself.

Probably the former. If George was pissed at him, he wouldn’t play some drawn-out sadistic game. He’d either let Dream know verbally, or give him the cold shoulder. Manipulation wasn’t his forte.

Dream on the other hand, he was a skilled puppeteer. It had won him a lot of friends, but also created a decent amount of enemies. If it wasn’t for his reputation as a ruthlessly effective pro-hero, he probably would have been killed by now. Painfully.

His enemies wouldn’t bother treating him with mercy. It wouldn’t be painless, nor would it be clean.

That was why he had to be vigilant, and stay on top of his game. If not for his own safety, then for the safety of the small circle of people he actually cared about. Sure, most were heroes who could more than handle themselves, but villain organisations were becoming increasingly sophisticated these days. Almost as if they were unionising…

Dream would never forgive himself if someone went after George because of him. Or Sapnap.

“Why don’t you just ask him on a date?” Sapnap goes on, electing to ignore the way Dream’s face has suddenly darkened. Dream can be volatile, and it’s almost impossible to keep track of what triggers his mood-changes. Hopefully he wasn’t in one of his _sulking_ moods. “Be direct.”

“Do you even know George? He’d think I was teasing him.”

“And who’s fault would that be? Teasing him is your favourite past-time.”

Dream opens his mouth, then closes it. Sapnap had him there. What was his life coming to, taking love advice from a guy a year younger than him…

Not that the minor age difference had ever meant much. Even when Sapnap had been a year below him in high school, the raven haired boy had never felt insecure about spending time with older students. He’d walked brazenly up to Dream on his first day, whilst his fellow hero course rookies trembled under the appraising stares of their upperclassman.

Dream could have been unkind, or hazed him. He could have behaved aloofly to teach him some humility.

He’d ruffled his hair, snickering as Sapnap cursed him out loudly, adjusting his white headband with a scowl. Orange flames had lit up the side of his face, promptly extinguished when George had sighed loudly, put-upon, before informing the two ‘childish losers’ he was going to the library to take a nap before their next class.

That was George. For a guy who’s main quirk was invisibility, he had a penchant for stealing the scene when he finally spoke up and made himself known. That, and it was kind of hard to overlook someone so beautiful, at least in Dream’s humble opinion…

That dark hair, flawless skin. Long eyelashes that batted over those big brown eyes, a smile capable of taking your breath away when it was sincere, not the ‘customer service’ ones he spared for the public…

Pink lips. Ridiculously pink. Pursed or thinned in displeasure, they never lost their appeal.

Dream was besotted. He’d been so for a long time now. George’s fans were similarly struck by his boyish good looks, and Dream was only glad he didn’t have to compete for George’s affections. His former friend had never expressed interest in anyone romantically before…

“He’s just so _cute.”_ Dream groans, threading his fingers through his sandy blond hair in exasperation. “He’s so adorable when he gets all flustered, Sap.”

“That’s one word for it. If you ask me, sassy George is a menace. Quackity nearly decked him last week.”

“Quackity nearly decked _me_ a day ago.” Dream supposed that was what he got, for needling the other hero about his height all afternoon. “It’s not exactly uncommon for Quackity to try and punch people. He’d punch an old lady if she looked at him wrong.” Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but Quackity _was_ prone to fits of temper when pushed enough, and with the sheer scope and adaptability of his quirk…

He may not have thrived in close-quarters combat, but those fluffy wings of his were perfect for support and incapacitating enemies from a distance, even if Quackity frequently overdid it.

“You and George are perfect for each other. Between the pair of you, you’ll have Quackity looking like a moulting duck.” Sapnap shows a hint of disapproval here, but doesn’t linger on the topic. It had been hard at first, for Dream to accept that his best friend had broadened his horizons in the friend department, but he’d learned to accept it. If it made Sapnap happy, he’d support him. “So, what’s the deal with this team-up I’ve heard about? PR stunt?” There’d been whispers around the head office that Dream and George would be teaming-up for something soon, which Sapnap had picked up on when he’d been sent to the agency head for his disciplinary action.

“I don’t have all the details yet. I hope it’s something simple.” Although Dream and George had been trained to co-operate with one another in high school, their teamwork had deteriorated since. Sure, they worked well together under pressure or when it was life or death, but if it was only something mildly challenging, they bickered like a married couple.

Something simple, they barely need talk at all. Dream may have adored most things about George, but his bossiness in the field had always been challenging. They had different strategies for dealing with field work, and it was a constant power struggle between them over which methods to utilise.

“Yeah well, the director’s put me with Bad once I’m recovered, over at _his_ agency. Apparently I need reminding of how to ‘behave in a professional manner’ and that ‘BadBoyHalo can set a shining example for me’. Fucking lame, dude.”

“Ooooh, you got slapped with the sidekick punishment.” Dream commented mockingly, laughing when Sapnap shot him a rude gesture. “Bad’s gonna have you baking cookies for all of those troubled youths again.”

Sapnap shuddered. This wasn’t the first time he’d been sent to Bad’s agency for misdemeanours. Bad was straight-laced compared to Sapnap’s casual vulgarity, and a week under his supervision was usually enough to pull Sapnap into line for _at least_ a month.

There was also the whole fact that nearly nobody was better than Bad at learning how to curb the self-destructiveness of one’s own quirk, and Sapnap currently looked like a boiled lobster from overusing his. A bit of shadow might be just what he needs.

“At least I might get to see the Sport’s Festival in person.” Sapnap grumbled. “Bad’s agency usually picks a few kids for work studies, so maybe he’ll let me tag along.”

“Only you would find kids pummelling one another so entertaining.”

“We used to _be_ those kids. Don’t you remember?”

“I do.” Of course Dream did. It was because he remembered, that he despised the event so much.

After all, it was the Sports Festival that had caused his rift with George to begin with.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be out soonish! Thinking of making a Tumblr or Twitter to share more stuff about this au, but idk yet…  
> Lemme know if you liked this chapter or what you thought, if you feel comfortable sharing. The next chapter will have George and Dream interacting again :D  
> Since I mentioned more quirks, here they are listed: 
> 
>   
> **Dream**  
>  Quirk: ‘Dream’  
> Mind manipulation. Dream can cast illusions, both in his surroundings and in a person’s mind. He can also hypnotise in the right situation. There’s a bit more to his quirk, but I don’t want to spoil the story ;)
> 
>  **Sapnap**  
>  Quirk: Blaze  
> He can conjure flames on most parts of his body, but increasing the heat too much can cause a nasty sunburn or skin blistering. He can project the flames to a certain distance, but doing so exerts him heavily. 
> 
> **Quackity**  
>  Quirk: Feather Fury (commonly misprinted as ‘Feather Flurry’ in the media, thanks to Dream)  
> The feathers of his wings can be sharpened, and used as projectiles, pinning enemies in place from a distance. The more feathers he loses, the harder it is for him to fly. Because of this, his wings seem much smaller than most winged quirks. This quirk is partly Hawks’s quirk from MHA, although Quackity’s isn’t as op. 
> 
> **BadBoyHalo (Bad)**  
>  Quirk: Shadowed  
> Bad can summon and control shadows. He has to remain in a positive mind frame when he does so, otherwise the darkness can affect his mind. The strength of his quirk depends on how dark an area is. Inspired by Dark Shadow from MHA.

**Author's Note:**

> Flip a coin, that’s the likelihood of this fic being continued!
> 
> In all seriousness though, I have some ideas I really like for this fic. My brain’s been doing a bit of world-building, and distracting me from my IRL responsibilities. 
> 
> Tell me what you think, it might just influence my decision 😉 
> 
> Also since I technically revealed three ‘quirks’ in this chapter, here they are officially listed:
> 
> George (Georgenotfound)  
> Quirk: Invisibility  
> He can turn himself invisible. 
> 
> Karl Jacobs (Karl)  
> Quirk: Time-travel  
> He can jump through time, but going too far forward or backwards runs the risk of him getting stuck. Kind of like Five from The Umbrella Academy. 
> 
> Wilbur Soot (?)  
> Quirk: Brainwashing.


End file.
